


Acceptance is All I Ask

by tobifreakazoid



Category: Magneto (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Erik needs a hug, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Heterosexual Sex, Mutant Reader, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Self-Acceptance, Sex, Smut, Woman on Top, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobifreakazoid/pseuds/tobifreakazoid
Summary: He’s had other women before and he would never claim to be a man of virtue, but at this moment, she made him want to wipe his memory clean of them all. He made the voices in his head sing her name, and all that he could feel was HER.Erik knew he didn't deserve her, but she was all that he needed.Even when he knew that his love would destroy her in the end.





	

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Erik turned at the sound of her voice. It was uncanny how (Y/n) could move so silently that even he, after years and years of living with eyes at the back of his head, could not hear her approaching. She smiled at him, in her comfy old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, her (h/l) locks in disarray. He returned her smile, continuing to stir the tea that he was nursing.

“Sleeping’s a luxury for the sinless, (y/n).” was his reply. In a way, it was true. Those years growing up was a nightmare, and to survive, he had to embrace more than one vice. He was moulded by his sins, and it made up what he was today. Strong, stoic, and proud. And heartless. And bitter. 

She took a seat opposite to him, her hair settling in waves around her shoulder. Her eyes were red, and he could faintly map out the trail that her tears had left on her cheeks. Was she having another nightmare?

“Then we should all be up. No one’s truly without sin, Erik.” She grabbed the cup and took a sip of his tea, grimacing at the bitterness. Her sweet tooth held an infamy of their own in these halls. “Bitter. As I expected.”

“That might teach you not to take a man’s tea from under his nose.” He didn’t really mind, though. Sharing with her felt…nice, in a way. He wasn’t used to sharing anything with anyone, but she was an exception. And he didn’t know why.

As they sat in the dark kitchen illuminated by only a single candle, they chatted, their subjects ranging in mundane matters. Their training, Banshee’s horrid singing from the shower, her current artwork, the best wine to go with steak. Erik loved how she listens, actually listens to what he had to say. She laughed at his dry jokes, asked him the weirdest questions, and made them pancakes because they knew sleep was never going to come for the both of them. So there they were, sitting at the dinner table, munching on pancakes at three in the morning, having a very heated debate on the use of fish and fishes. (She insisted that she won.)

They cleaned their plates, and she insisted on going to the drawing room that she had made into her temporary studio. It was littered with her sketches, brushes, paints and pencils. To be fair, she had never claimed to be neat, except for when she was in the kitchen. Even though they had been living together for a while, Erik had never been in her workspace. He doubted anyone had, seeing that she was a person that valued her privacy. He stood at the entrance as she sauntered off to a covered canvas, not wanting to barge in without a proper invite.  
“Is it alright for me to be here, (Y/n)?”, he asked after a while. 

“What?” she remarked, as if just realising that he was there all along. “Oh. Come on in. There’s something that I want to show you.” He saw that she was looking rather pensive with a hint of nerves lying under her seemingly cool exterior. What did she want to show him?

He took slow steps towards her, not wanting to rustle her nerves even more. Was it truly that important? 

She didn’t turn to look at him, opting to look out the window form which light was illuminating the room. After a period of silence, she spoke softly. “Erik, what if…what if you knew that something terrible was about to happen, and that you were powerless to stop it? Would you still try to prevent it from happening?”

He shifted his weight to his other foot, contemplating her sudden question. “We mutants are never powerless, (Y/N). We each hold a strength that could change history, as what we are striving for now.”  
He could see that she wasn’t convinced. Silently, she moved to the canvas, as if she was regretting the decision with each step. When she pulled the cloth to reveal her work, he stood still, struck on the spot where he stood. He looked at her, hoping for some explanation, some words of comfort. None. She didn’t even meet his eyes. 

Erik moved closer to the terrible canvas. The image was grotesque, to say the least. There he was, albeit looking a bit older, surrounded by the bodies of many, some of them mutants, some of them humans. His face held no sadness, no regret, just satisfaction. Flecks and splatter of crimson blood tattered his attire, his hands and his feet. He was a monster. 

“Did-Is-Is this me?”

Her silence answered his stuttered question. 

“When? How?”

“I do not know. I’ve been having the same vision for months now, even before I met you. That was why I was reluctant to join at first. I don’t understand them either, and I don’t know when it will happen, but it will. One day.”

He didn’t know how to response. Were there even words that could adequately picture his horror? All his life, Erik knew that life was harsh, and that it shaped us into what we are, but what he saw in the canvas was something that scared him. It wasn’t the bodies that were under his feet, he was used to death, the final inevitable. What shocked him was his expression. There was no hint of remorse, no regret. He looked…happy? No. Satisfied. As if a goal had been achieved. 

“It scares me.”

She meant he scared her. This monster before him was what he would become in years or decades. As if he wasn’t an abomination already. One that couldn’t even save the most important person in his life. 

She must have seen his change in expression when she spoke, and had regretted her choice of words. She sought to correct them.

“Not you, Erik. This. The potential that you have. Your strength is far beyond your understanding. And I’m scared of what they might bring.”

He looked at the canvas again, eyes trained on his horrid expression. “Has any of your predictions ever came true?” There has to be a way to change this, he thought. He wanted revenge, but not to this degree. This is a massacre, not justice.

She didn’t answer him.

“(Y/n)?”

Her small hand reached for his, grasping them tight, her eyes meeting his. “Erik, I don’t know whether or not this will come true, but I have hope. And I have faith in you. I know you, and I trust that there is good in you. Just promise me that whatever happens, remember who you are.”

“Who am I, (y/n)?”

She kissed his forehead. “A friend.”  
His cheeks. “A protector.”  
His lips. “A loved one.”

Her eyes were wet, her face flushed. He captured her lips with his own after a moment, thunderstruck that she felt the same for him. This wonderful, wonderful woman wanted him as much as he wanted her. Even when he knew what he might become in the span of years.

What he will become. The kiss became bitter.

His sudden withdrawal surprised her. Did she do something wrong?

“It-It’s not you, (y/n). It’s me. Don’t let me hurt you.”

Her warm hand found his chest and settled on his heart.

“Listen to me, Erik. I love you, and with those words, I accept all your perfections and imperfections. I want you, warts and all. And, if in the future, my vision come true, I’ll still be by your side. I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t say anything to shake me off.”

Her words were saccharine. He could never resist her. Maybe, for once, he could be selfish. At least, until the moment of truth comes. Then, he promised himself, he would do anything to protect her.  
She kissed him, and he didn’t let go. Her lips were tentative, but the heat from them travelled through him. It was addicting as hell, all velvet and throaty moans. She was a Goddess. In a better age, the mundane humans would build monuments around her image. She was the Oracle.

They pulled apart. She was dishevelled, but her aura resonated want. A want that was so deep for him. She could break him if she wanted, and that was a thought so terrifying, it reflected in his eyes.  
“Stop, Erik. Just look at me and forget everything else for tonight.”

How could he deny his Goddess? Her words were a religion. 

He embraced her tight, levitating them gently to her room, for he wanted her to have as much comfort as possible. And because his room was too far away. He was losing control, too, and fast. And God knows, he needs to wash the terrible image that he had seen from his mind. 

She is his sweetest distraction.

He laid her gently on the huge bed, silently thanking Charles for giving her this luxurious room, because his love deserved no less. Her kisses left him feeling intoxicated, her touches fire. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her sugary scent. Pancakes. Warmth. Love?

She was getting restless, he noticed. That should have been his warning. But she managed to startle him when he flipped them over. All at once, all he saw was he silhouette above him, smiling slightly. “Did I manage to shock the ice block?” He rolled his eyes at her.

She kissed the length of him, assaulting his coarse skin with her lips, sucking slightly on his war-torn body. Was she marking him? The thought of her possessiveness excited him. She was his, and he her. She tugged at the elastic of his pants, a clear indication that the item of clothing was in the way. She moved off of him to let his discard it to an unknown corner of the room. She hesitated when she saw him.

“Are you alright? We can stop this if you want. Though, I won’t be getting much sleep tonight, if we do.” He tried to end the sentence lightly, not wanting to pressure her. She shook her head, a blush creeping up her neck. “That’s not it. I want to continue. It’s just that…well...you’re big.” She was stuttering over her words, showing her embarrassment. He found it adorable.

“I’ll be gentle, (y/n)”

“You’d better.”

She grasped the length of him, tentatively pumping it. Her small digits barely encircled him, but every touch was ecstasy. She was the death of him. He found himself panting slightly, encouraging her to go further. She leaned down, pushed her hair back, and gave him kitty licks that jolted him.

“Such a violent response”, she teased. 

His head was too much of a mess to response to her words when she took him into her mouth. The heat burned him, but it felt so good. Her tongue traced the vein protruding from his member, driving him over the edge. It took all of him to not cum into her mouth. He cradled her face, letting her know that he had other things on his mind. He loomed over her, letting himself get acquainted with her body. All velvet, but with silvery scars that shone bright. A reminder of her torturous life before he met her. He wanted to erase them all. She felt his hand on her opening, a sensation that was quite foreign to her. She wanted to shy away, but his hands held her thighs open. 

“You’re beautiful, (y/n). Never close yourself off from me.” 

Her nerves were electrocuted when she felt his tongue on her. He was sucking hard, leaving her body frayed with lust. Her pants were getting more and more frantic. He stared at her writhing form, pleased that he was able to make her feel this pleasure. She was sweet and beautiful and pure. She was his saviour. 

He needed a saviour.

“Enough, Erik. I want you in me. Now”

He chuckled. “The lady gets whatever she wants.”

He thrusted into her gently, letting her get accustomed to his girth. Her face contorted, and he prayed to any higher power that bothered to listen that she wasn’t in pain. He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moan as he entered her fully. She clenched around him, and he saw heaven. “Do that again, and we might have to cut this session short, love”.

She snorted at his words. 

He kept his thrusts shallow and slow at first, treating her as gently as porcelain. He savoured her sultry breaths, proof that she was here with him in this moment. He was drowning in her, and, to his surprise, he didn’t mind. Not one bit.

His pace was too slow for her. She needed more of him, but he was holding back. She wouldn’t have that. She clawed her way down his back, and whispered “I’m not going to break, Erik.” That was all he needed. 

His thrusts became almost violent, wanting to hurt her, wanting to break her, and then wanting to put her together again, in a fashion only he knew how. He felt selfish when it came to her, wanting to own her in ways that she had never knew. 

Her sweet, sweet sounds underneath him was driving him crazy, and he was hungry for more. She grabbed his arm, nails plunging into his flesh, carving crescent dents into him. 

“Erik, more!” 

The world tilted for a second, but he wasn’t complaining, because the next thing he saw was his Goddess on top of him, breathless and divine. He felt all of her, clutching tightly to him, wiping all rationality from his brain. Beautiful was the sight of her. He heard echoes in his mind. Echoes of his name repeated, over and over again like a mantra. 

His breath was getting more and more laboured as the minutes passed by. By the look of her, he knew that she was close, too. The need to take control overwhelmed him once more as he pushed her down into the bed and caged her form with his arms, kissing, bruising her lips with his need for her. His hips moved faster and faster as her hands traced his body, leaving fiery trails that burned him.  
He’s had other women before and he would never claim to be a man of virtue, but at this moment, she made him want to wipe his memory clean of them all. He made the voices in his head sing her name, and all that he could feel was HER. (y/n) is his personal blessing from heaven, if heaven was ever meant for him. For once in his life, he wasn’t alone. She was here with him. 

They reached the point of climax together, him blanking out, his senses fried, with only her in his mind. She was whispering something, in a language that he didn’t know, but it was wonderful all the same. She, who knew that he would turn into a monster, but still decided to love his twisted self.  
He wanted to scream that he loved her. 

He wanted to.

He really did, but he knew better.

So he kissed her and held her till morning came.


End file.
